


Spoil-Sport

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Play, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Butt Plugs, Disobedient Pet, Dom/sub, Hand Jobs, M/M, Master/Pet, Puppy Play, Role Reversal, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:09:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After some convincing, Heavy finally manages to get Medic to agree to letting him dominate him and be in charge of a bedroom scene.  That doesn’t mean, however, that he will enjoy it, or be compliant.  At least, not at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoil-Sport

"Do not look so angry, Doktor," Heavy chastised, tugging gently at the leash in his hand for punctuation. "You said I could be in charge for once."

Medic pouted, looking up at Heavy as the leash made his collar jingle, the metal tag hanging from red leather around his neck swaying with the motion of being jerked about. It was true. He had said Heavy could be in charge for once. After so much pleading, so much wheedling, so may favours and so much buttering-up, Heavy had gotten him to agree to reverse their roles for a night. It had been proving to be a difficult transition for the doctor.

Medic preferred to dominate. He always had. When he and Heavy had fallen together into romance and a rather comfortable bedroom power dynamic, he had taken it as both a point of pride and great fortune that the giant was so eager to submit to him, to be slave to his whims with absolute faith and trust. He loved to exercise his power over Heavy, to have him at his beck and call, eager and willing to obey every command with immediate loyalty.

Now, naked save for his leash-led collar and knee pads, his calves bound against his thighs with leather belting, he crawled on the floor as he'd had Heavy do so many times before, not entirely understanding the appeal. He'd never quite questioned just _why_ Heavy enjoyed doing the things he did, allowing himself to be controlled and bound, to be dominated and reduced to a pet or a plaything. He'd never wondered at it, being simply satisfied with the notion that Heavy desperately loved it, and he loved to subject Heavy to such whims, exercising his will over the giant and relishing the heady rush of power it provided.

Medic sniffed, pouting further and looking away from Heavy. He wouldn't be broken. He couldn't be broken, so why would Heavy want to try? How could Heavy want power when he was always so eager to give it up? Playing both roles made no sense in the doctor's mind.

"Heel," Heavy commanded, pointing to the floor beside his leg, beckoning Medic over with a sharp tone.

Rankling at the assumption, Medic huffed and sat, plunking his bottom down atop his heels and sitting firm, staring with bemused dismissal at his giant lover. Maybe once he got it through his head that this wasn't going to work, he would give up.

With a sigh, Heavy looked Medic over. He was the image of defiance, distastefully sitting at the very limit of the leash's reach, ignoring his words and refusing to release his inhibitions and give the role a chance. How many times had Heavy been the cuddly kitten, the loyal hound, the strong work horse, the willing pain pig, or the shuddering fucktoy for the slim, beautiful creature now gazing at him dispassionately through hooded blue eyes? Would it kill Medic to give it an earnest shot? There had to be something he could do to break Medic of his pretensions.

"Heel, boy," Heavy tried again. Medic simply looked away from him with a bored look on his face.

Heavy jerked at the collar a bit more, forcing Medic to look at him. "Such a pretty pet, but too willful and wild. Must be domesticated."

Something about Heavy's voice at that last word caught Medic's ear. It was low, with a dangerous, meaningful edge to it that set a heat to grow between his thighs. The doctor perked up a bit, eyes sliding over the giant with interest. Heavy's voice had always been a pleasure for him, a source of adoration and arousal, but something sinister in those low tones tickled something inside of him just right, and he found himself warming to the idea of it bossing him around. That was a voice he could surrender to.

"Heel," Heavy ordered stiffly, pointing to the floor beside him. He looked to Medic expectantly, waiting for a response, but only received a nose wrinkled in dismissal in return. His pet laid down on the floor, curling up and shooting him a daring glare.

"Heel."

Medic snorted and looked away from Heavy.

"You will obey or I will punish you, moy shchenok," Heavy threatened, his voice a low growl of frustration. It rumbled through him, through the floor boards and into Medic's belly and chest. Here, here was the voice, that beautiful, terrible sound that sent blood rushing through him and drove the sense from his mind. Why he felt so weak, so subservient in the shadow of its bass, Medic couldn't place, but he knew from the quickening of his heartbeat and the electric potential that crackled in his muscles, that it spurred him to obey.

Heavy noticed the doctor's cheeks, redder than they'd been moments ago, and the dreamy look that had come over him as he gazed up at his lover, and thought a moment. What had caused  _that_ change, he wondered.

"Heel," he tried again, voice dipping a bit low, gaining the edge that had begun to work its way into Medic's head. He watched the doctor's reaction closely, the flush deepening in his cheeks, the eyes that flicked up to his face and away again, the gentle beginnings of his cock stirring between his thighs. His shoulders twitched as if he had intended to move, but held fast in spite of the urge. Ah, so that was it.

"Heel," Heavy commanded, his voice low, thick, and rumbling. It vibrated through the leash and collar, humming against the skin of Medic's neck. He felt its bass in his ribcage, in the quickened pace of his heart, in the heat swelling in his loins. His reaction was immediate, coming to heel and 'standing' on all fours beside Heavy's leg, eyes ahead, body stiff and straight.

Heavy smiled, and in the same tone, told him, "Sit." Medic did, as best he could, tilting back onto his shins and toes, seated on his heels half-squatting. He looked up to Heavy, his breath quickening at the sight of the giant's satisfied smile.

Medic felt his reservations fade away, his analytical exploration of his and Heavy's motives melting out of focus and leaving only a keen awareness of how large and warm Heavy was, how his voice filled his ears, and how very much he adored that smile, and pleasing its bearer. Heavy's voice was like a drug, lulling him and making his mind grow faded, holding him in its sway like the large hands of the man who bore it. It was the voice he adored; the voice that whispered beautiful nothings and simply-worded but deeply-felt confessions of love. The voice that boomed out his rage and lust for blood on the battlefield, demanding violence and heralding its arrival. The voice that made him drunk with desire when it murmured pleas for flesh and tenderness or leather and roughness. And now, it was the voice that drove the sense from his mind and tore down his pretensions and self-awareness, stripping away his layers until he was left with only animal need. The need to please, the need to obey, the need to be satisfied.

He was rewarded for his obedience by a large hand ruffling through his hair, nails dragging gently across his scalp and coming together to scratch intently behind one ear. Medic melted into the touch, craning his head for more and leaning his forehead against Heavy's thigh.

"Good boy," Heavy cooed, gently scritching down to the underside of the older man's chin. "Very good boy. Now lay down."

Medic simply craned into that gentle scratching. Good boy. Yes, yes he was a good boy. A very good boy. He did what that deep voice told him so he was a good boy. He was good. Yes. So enthralled in those warm words, in the large hand gently petting him, the rest of Heavy's words flew over his head.

Until the scratching stopped, and Heavy's hand was taken away. "Lie down," came Heavy's command, deep and booming once again. It was not loud, but it shook Medic's foundations into rubble all the same. Medic obeyed, sinking forward onto his belly, fidgeting about for a moment as he tried to find a comfortable way to lay with his cock now standing at full attention. He ended up pitching himself halfway onto his hip.

Heavy smiled, offering another, "Good boy," for Medic's efforts, and knelt down beside his pet. "Roll over," he commanded, and Medic obeyed, rolling onto his back, his legs spread, his cock bouncing against his belly with the motion.

The hound's chest and belly rose and fell with quickened breaths, his lips slightly parted to accommodate his shallow breaths. His hands dangled limply from his wrists on either side of his chest, baring his sensitive middle like the obedient pup he was.

A strong, broad hand came down and rubbed gentle circles on Medic's chest, moving down his ribs to his belly. The motion was heavenly, warm flesh petting at his own, drawing flutters through his stomach as comfort and ease began to tingle through every nerve. Heavy rumbled his approval with gentle reminders. "Such a good boy. Learn so quickly. Very good boy. Should reward you, give you treat for being good boy."

Medic perked up at that. Reward? A treat? What kind of reward?

Heavy twirled his finger in the air. "Roll over."

The hound obeyed, looking up expectantly to Heavy when the task was complete.

"Sit," Heavy commanded, prompting his pet back up to sit on his haunches. "Now," the giant's hands strayed to his fly, quickly opening the offending fabric restraining him and tugging forth his cock, hard and hot in his hand. He held it out like an offering. "Now take it nice."

Medic licked his lips and dove in, ready to accept his treat, Heavy's admonishment of, "Take it nice, be good," falling on uncaring ears as he wrapped his lips eagerly around its length. The sharp intake of breath from above his head only spurred him onward, sucking gently at the cock in his mouth, letting his tongue press just so against its underside and begin to undulate.

"Haaah," Heavy gasped, his fingers sifting through his pup's hair again to scratch at his scalp in slow, twitching circles, "so good. Such a good boy."

He was a good boy, he was doing a good thing, yes. Medic whined happily in his throat as his head began to bob, tongue rolling with perfect pressure against Heavy's hot flesh. He slurped loudly as he salivated, hands coming up to sit on Heavy's thighs, curled into loose, paw-like fists to steady himself as he worked. Normally, his hands would be all over, cupping and rolling Heavy's balls, gripping the base of his shaft and stroking in time with the bobbing of his head, sneaking over to knead at his thighs or rub gently at the soft hair of his belly. But now, here, he was a pet, not a man. He wasn't a creature of skilled fingers and clever movements, but an obedient hound receiving a treat, simply excited and overjoyed.

Heavy seemed to appreciate his zeal, scratching harder, gripping Medic's head and drawing him back and forth with each bob, urging him onward, faster, more. His mouth was so hot, spit escaping the corners of his lips and rolling down his chin. His pet was so good, obeyed so well. Praise spilled over the giant's lips, low rumbling affirmations of what a good boy his pup was as he grew nearer and nearer release. Almost-breathless, he asked, "Ready for your treat?"

Medic responded by redoubling his efforts, increasing suction and bobbing faster. His neck and jaw ached, but he didn't care. He was a happy pup pleasing his master, and when Heavy came, he shivered, feeling heat flood his mouth and tasting bitter salt on his tongue. He bobbed his head until the gentle pulses of his master's cock slowed and ceased, his orgasm spent. With an eager swallow, Medic set to work lapping Heavy clean, in spite of the over-sensitive giant's protests.

Finally, snatched by his collar, Medic ceased, panting with a dumb smile across his face as he cast his eyes up to Heavy. Hopefully he hadn't worked himself out of a second treat.

"You do not listen so well sometimes," Heavy chastised, smirking and red-faced.

Medic let his tongue loll just past his lips in response, the perfect picture of a happy pup.

"Heel," came the order from Heavy, prompting his pet to take up a spot beside his leg, on all fours, at attention. The giant looked to him sternly, and commanded, "Stay."

Medic did as he was told, head turning to follow Heavy's movements as he stood and walked to the night stand and began rummaging through a drawer. When he returned, Medic's eyes went wide. In Heavy's hands were a bottle of lubricant and a new toy, one he wasn't aware they'd owned.

It was a butt plug, rather large in width, but nothing Medic wasn't seasoned at handling. From the flared bottom extended a foot-long, furry tail, slightly curved and slim, like that of a doberman or bull terrier.

Medic's eyes traveled from the toy up to Heavy, who loomed tall over him with imperious intent. He took hold of the leash again, and pointed to the floor. "Lay down, roll over."

Doing as he was told, Medic took his place laying on his back, legs in the air and arms crooked against his chest. He panted gently, looking down the line of his body, past his achingly hard cock, as Heavy knelt between his legs and set the toy and leash down. "Stay," came the command, as Heavy popped open the bottle of lube and began to slick his fingers.

Gasping as a thick finger breached his ass, Medic shivered, his head falling back to the floor as he squeezed his eyes closed. His breath picked up, quick, harsh pants puffing past his lips as Heavy slowly filled him and wriggled his finger around, curling it and pumping it slowly in and out to prepare him for the second that soon joined it. He hooked his fingers, pressing in against Medic's prostate and drawing a yelp from him.

Heavy shushed his pet, "Make too much noise. No. No bark," he commanded, abusing that spot with rapid flickers of his fingers.

Medic writhed under the assault, clenching his jaw to keep his wails dialed down to insistent whines. Whiteness prickled behind his eyes as his hips rose and fell with Heavy's fingers, his legs bound to prevent him from gaining purchase on the carpeted floor.

When he was satisfied, scissoring his thick fingers and making sure Medic was well stretched, Heavy withdrew his hand and wiped his digits on a discarded pair of underwear. Holding the plug up for Medic to see, he poured a liberal amount of the lube onto the large black object, then let it sink below his pet's line of sight, bringing it down to press against his entrance.

"Shh, you are such good boy," Heavy cooed, his voice low but gentle. One large hand gripped the hound's hip as his other slowly pushed the toy inside.

The stretch was amazing, the toy wonderfully thick with very little give. Medic gasped and bit his lip as he felt his hole opening and accommodating the large plug, until with a pop, it was inside, sitting heavily within him. A long, slim tail poked out from between his cheeks. The most intense part of it over, Medic flopped limply down, panting heavily with the strain of taking the big toy.

"Such a good boy," Heavy repeated, sitting and gathering Medic into his lap, smiling fondly at the light whimper that escaped him as the plug was jostled from the movement. "Obey so well, do just what master tell you. Very good dog," he continued, petting gently at Medic's belly, slow, wide circles repeated with one enormous hand. Very slowly, that hand began to hazard further down, traveling to the hound's abdomen and headed between his thighs.

"Will give you one more treat for learning so fast," Heavy announced, gripping hold of Medic's cock with his mighty hand, relishing the way his pet's body tensed in his lap. With perfect pressure, Heavy's hand began to move, tugging at his flesh, his thumb rubbing at his head with each pass, beginning slowly but picking up speed and leaving Medic whining and gasping in his arms.

He was full, so very full, the tail of the plug brushing his thighs with each wriggling movement in Heavy's lap, trying so hard to arch into his touch in spite of his bound legs. He forgot his paws, hands tugging at Heavy's shirt, at his shoulder, caressing his mighty jaw and grasping at any and every part of him in desperation. Wordless whimpers spilled over his lips, high moans desperately muffled through his clenched jaw. Heavy said to be quiet, and he had to do what his master told him. He had to be a good boy. He was a good boy. But it was so hard to be a good boy when sparks were traveling up his spine and down his thighs and making his knees twitch and wobble and whole body shudder and shake.

His gut felt empty, a yawning aching pressure that extended downward to meet the immaculate fullness in his ass, heat blooming through his entire pelvis as it quivered under Heavy's touch.

Warm lips brushed his own as Heavy bowed over his pet to kiss him, his voice, barely above a whisper but so thick and dark, murmuring about how good he was, how obedient, how happy his master was with him. He told him he wanted his good boy to come, and Medic's body began to stiffen. He clenched Heavy's shirt between shaking fingers and whined against Heavy's lips, shivering each time his master's hot tongue dipped into his mouth.

Throwing his head back, Medic howled out his orgasm, unable to contain himself. He tensed all over, spilling over Heavy's hand and his own belly as the paroxysms of his climax nearly carried him out of his master's lap and into a heap on the carpet below.

Heavy held him close, pumping him until he came down, and lifting his hand to Medic's mouth once he'd finished. "Clean me up," he ordered, and Medic complied, licking his own seed from Heavy's fingers and thumb.

When he was satisfied, Heavy kissed Medic, reaching down to open the straps holding his lover's legs bent, tugging them away and unfurling his limbs to let him stretch. The knee pads were next, discarded as warm hands found their way up long, muscular legs. His hand came last to the collar, unhooking it and removing it from Medic's neck slowly, reverently. He set the leather strip with its metal tag aside and tugged the doctor close, pulling him into his arms and covering his face with kisses.

Medic whimpered for a moment, not out of canine obedience but because the plug was still inside of him, and the stimulation was overwhelming. "Schatz..."

"Shh, Doktor, I have you," Heavy soothed him, picking Medic up and standing, taking him over to the bed to lay on his side. Gently, he lifted his leg and worked the plug out of him, wrapping it in the same discarded boxers from before for later cleaning. Right now, the most important thing was his beloved Medic. "Are you okay, Doktor?" he asked, sure to repeat the name he called him by, climbing into bed beside him and wrapping strong arms around the exhausted man.

"J-ja," Medic confirmed, shivering a little with aftershocks. "That was..."

"Good?"

"Wunderbar." The doctor buried his face in Heavy's chest, and the giant felt a smile against his cotton-clad skin. "I am fine."

"Am glad. Did you like?"

"I did, though I am still not sure why. I do not think it is so much the illusion of being a dog that did it."

"Oh?"

"It was you. Your voice, your size, large and commanding. I would do or be anything for that voice," Medic sighed, wrapping sleepy arms around his lover's soft middle.

"I think you are beginning to understand why I do it," Heavy explained, rubbing slow circles on Medic's back. "Though it is not so much your voice as all of you. My Doktor as a whole." He thought a moment before venturing, "Do you think this will happen again?"

"Well," Medic chuckled, wriggling a bit, "it looks like you already went to the trouble of getting me a new plug for the role. I suppose it would be a waste not to. Though perhaps some ears to match...?"

"This I can do," Heavy assured him with a wide grin. "And maybe next time we play fetch?"

"Do not press your luck, Schatz," Medic warned with a stern, yet sleepy look.

Heavy laughed and cuddled him closer, "Da, Doktor. Whatever you say."

**Author's Note:**

> requested by and a birthday present for tumblr user Daskingu


End file.
